


Like dancing

by tinderbox210



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-27
Updated: 2015-07-27
Packaged: 2018-04-11 14:02:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4438238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinderbox210/pseuds/tinderbox210
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I can teach you,” Derek suggested, his tone casual.<br/>She blinked in surprise, a little taken aback by his offer though it seemed sincere. They’ve never spend much time together and he’s never seemed interested in spending time with her alone. They were “pack” but you couldn’t call them friends in the traditional way, though they’ve worked together and saved each other’s life on more than one occasion. Still, it didn’t explain his sudden interest in teaching her and she wasn’t sure what to make of it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like dancing

**Author's Note:**

> I decided to write this one-shot after some people (okay technically just one but that was enough) were disappointed I didn’t write the shower scene at the end of my last story “One way to find out”. This is a separate story though, with the set-up loosely tied to season 5 (I don’t watch the new episodes so I don’t know much about what’s going). Also I don’t really know how to write fight lessons, so I apologize for the shortness of that part.
> 
> For people still interested in a potential sequel to “One way to find out” – I have an idea so there’s hope ;)
> 
> English is not my primary language, so I apologize for possible mistakes. Thank you and enjoy reading.

Derek was back in town.

Reintegrating so effortlessly back into the pack as if he’s never been away. Though he’s been gone so long they’ve actually started to wonder if he would ever return. But they should have known better that he always came back when they needed him, having their backs without question. Which was why no one was that much surprised when he showed up without warning on Scott’s front porch with a stack of old scripts in his hands.

Lydia didn’t know all the details of his latest journey, according to Scott he’s been tight-lipped about it – something to do with the desert wolf. But since the scripts were written in archaic Latin it was her task to translate them and scan them for any useful information on their recent supernatural threat.

After spending half the night translating one text after the other, she drove to the loft early in the morning to return the scripts. Unexpected excitement bubbled inside her chest as she climbed the stairs to the loft, making her pulse quicken in anticipation of seeing the werewolf with her own eyes.

The heavy steel door wasn’t locked as she expected and she didn’t bother knocking as she was sure Derek’s already sensed her presence with his enhanced werewolf senses.

He lounged on the couch all by himself as usual, dressed in a pair of sweats and a plain shirt, though he didn’t appear as broody as he used to be. He seemed to have accepted his situation and made peace with his past at last, not constantly blaming himself for everything that went wrong and this new almost Zen-like attitude suited him.

Lydia found herself staring at the werewolf while she hovered in the doorway and studied his profile for a moment without making her presence known. She has never spend much time alone with Derek. It was a rare sight to see him so relaxed and peaceful, seemingly completely preoccupied by the book he was reading.

Shaking out of her temporary paralysis she entered the loft. Derek looked up with a mix of confusion and agitation, still not used to her showing up at his place. His eyes roamed over her body in a quick once-over, taking in her unusual choice of clothing for the morning - shorts, tank top, sneakers. She was on her way to the gym for training before school when she decided to drop by the loft.

“I’m just here to return the scripts”, she announced as she strolled closer, fishing the scripts out of her bag to place them on the low couch table in front of Derek. “Don’t worry. I’ll be out in a minute.” She was about to leave again, when his voice stopped her.

“Got somewhere important to go?” he asked curiously. The question almost startled her since the werewolf has never shown much interest in her, at least not the activities that didn’t include finding dead people.

“Just to the gym for some fight training”, she answered, turning back to face him out of politeness.

“Fight training?” he repeated, amusement clouding his voice and his thick eyebrows arched in expectation of a more detailed explanation.

Lydia rolled her eyes and added, “I’ve decided that I need to learn how to fight. I was sick of always having to be saved and putting my friends at risk, so I got some lessons in self-defense from Parrish. He’s gone now, but I’ll continue with the training.”

She left out that part of her reason of being so invested in the training was to keep herself busy to suppress that irrational feeling of unease that has been growing inside her during Derek’s absence. Predicting his death – actually _feeling_ his death - and him being the only person ever to survive her “death sentence” seemed to have created a unique connection between them, one that Derek might not be aware of but Lydia felt it tugging in the back of her mind. And now that she saw him first-hand, alive and well, something snapped tight inside her, letting her breathe in relief for the first time in months as if a heavy burden has been lifted of her shoulders.

Derek nodded and closed the book in his lap. Lydia couldn’t read the title, even though she was curious to find out what he’s been reading. The leather binding seemed old which made her assume it belonged to his family and he found it at the vault. “What did he teach you? There’s a significant difference between fighting a human and all the supernatural threats we’re facing in this town. I doubt Parrish had much experience with that since he wasn’t even aware he was supernatural”, Derek pointed out.

Lydia thought about her training and had to agree with him. The lessons have mostly covered the basics - how to duck a hit, how to block a hit, how to hit without breaking your hand. Along with working on her condition and defenses, but none of that would be enough in fight against werewolves, wendigos or berserkers, would it?

“Well, he taught me to aim for the weak spots.”

“Good advice”, Derek replied, “as long as your opponent _has_ weak spots.” He dropped his book on the couch table and stood up to face her with his impressive arms crossed over his chest which Lydia tried not to pay attention to. “How do you do that when facing something much stronger and faster, with enhanced senses that can see your move coming before you’ve even made it?”

Lydia frowned and couldn’t shake the feeling he was quizzing her like one of her teachers during exams. When she didn’t answer, he moved closer to stand right before her, towering over her with his intense gaze. He was so much taller than her. Without her heels she barely reached his shoulder and had to crane her neck to meet his eyes.

“You don’t go into combat if you don’t know what you’re doing or what you’re up against.” He uncrossed his arms to fold his hands behind his back. Lydia pursed her lips, tempted to point out how often he’s jumped into battle without all the necessary information to make it out alive, but she held her tongue. Despite everything he managed to survive even when she predicted his death and that was something she admired in him.

“I can teach you,” Derek suggested, his tone casual.

She blinked in surprise, a little taken aback by his offer though it seemed sincere. They’ve never spend much time together and he’s never seemed interested in spending time with her alone. They were “pack” but you couldn’t call them friends in the traditional way, though they’ve worked together and saved each other’s life on more than one occasion. Still, it didn’t explain his sudden interest in teaching her and she wasn’t sure what to make of it.

“You want to teach me?” she repeated skeptically.

The werewolf shrugged. “I think it’s a good idea you learn to defend yourself. Strengthen each member of the pack means strengthen the pack as a unit. I would like to help you.”

“Oh.” Of course he was only concerned about the good of the pack, not her specifically.

Lydia chewed on the inside of her cheek, trying to hide the sting of disappointment poking at her chest, as she contemplated whether to accept his offer or not. She could ask Scott to teach her, but then she would have to face the question why she didn’t ask him in the first place which she wasn’t keen on explaining. She would have asked Allison if she weren’t…

Despite not having witnessed most of Derek’s fights first-hand she knew he was a capable fighter and an even more capable tutor, like when he taught Jackson control. It couldn’t hurt to get some lessons by someone as battle-tested as the werewolf in front of her.

“Alright. When do you want to start?”

He spread his arms in invitation. “How about right now?”

He moved around the living area of the loft and pushed the spare furniture to the side to make room for them to train while Lydia stretched and warmed up as she didn’t want to risk to pull a muscle like the first training session with the deputy when she could barely move afterwards.

They started slow with Lydia showing Derek all the moves and combination she’s learned so far, so that he knew where to pick off with the training. All the while the werewolf circled her, mostly in silence, to study her movements intensely, almost like a predator stalking its prey, looking for weaknesses. He paid special attention to her breathing and stance. Sometimes he would step up behind her to correct her stance. So close that the heat radiating from his body seeped through her clothes and hindered her from paying attention to his instructions. She wasn’t sure if he did this deliberately to test her concentration or if he simply didn’t care about personal space and boundaries. Either way it was getting distracting having him almost press up against her back with his every of his touches making her skin tingle.

When they moved on to spar Lydia started to notice the difference not just in Derek’s way of teaching compared to Parrish’s but also in his fighting style. He focused more on her body’s perception than Parrish, patient but pushing her limits, challenging her to do better, confident she _could_ do better. He seemed to understand her strengths and weaknesses on a primal level, nurturing her natural instincts to establish her personal style of fighting, not trying to mold her into a cardboard fighter, which she had to admit seemed a more effective approach than the deputy’s and she started to wonder if she should have trained with Derek right from the start.

She noticed the art and grace in his movements when he demonstrated new fighting techniques, her eyes glued to the elegant flexing of his muscles. Training with the werewolf was more than just fighting. It was almost … like dancing.

Back and forth.

Push and pull.

Attack and evade.

He was so much faster than her and in perfect control of every fiber of his body, dodging and avoiding her attacks with so much ease like a cakewalk and when she landed a hit – when Derek _let_ her land a hit – he didn’t even flinch, making Lydia realize with growing frustration that all her training so far meant nothing when facing someone with years of experience ahead of her. If she couldn’t hold up against a werewolf how was she supposed to stand a chance against worse things haunting the night?

Soon they were sweating from the intense training – well, Lydia was sweating and becoming short of breath. Derek seemed barely affected, though he’s taking his shirt off during the training and having to see his chiseled chest and that fine line of dark hair running down his stomach did absolutely _not_ help Lydia’s concentration. Her muscles started to protest with every move and she kept stumbling over her own feet, losing focus of her footing for a second. She blew a loose strand of hair from her bun out of her face in frustration.

“I think that’s enough for today”, Derek suggested.

Lydia gritted her teeth. They’ve just been training for an hour. “No, we continue.”

The werewolf frowned at her. “Lydia, no one expects you to learn everything in one day.”

She shook her head in determination as she got in position for her next attack. “No, I’ve already wasted enough time. I want to continue.” She attacked him with one of the moves he’s shown her, but the werewolf reacted faster than she could even comprehend. Just as easily as before he danced out of her way, then grabbed her wrist and spun her around in a pirouette right into his arms, her back colliding with his front and his arm draped across her chest, caging her.

“You’re not paying attention anymore. You don’t even remember what to do in this situation, do you?” he scolded her, his breath hot against her ear.

Lydia tried to think, to come up with a solution in rational way like she would do with a math problem, calculating the variables, but it was even harder to concentrate than before with Derek pressing up against her like a wall of taut muscles. She was tempted to lean back into him, picturing all the ways she would rather have him touch her, pressing her against the wall. To put those rough hands and cocky mouth to good use.

She shook her head to clear her mind from those unwanted fantasies. “Well… if I was wearing my heels you’d be in big troubles”, she tried to sound cocky, intimidating even while she stomped on his foot in her sneakers which didn’t have the same effect as with her heels and it wasn’t enough to impress the werewolf. He chuckled, his low laughter stroking down her back and making her skin crawl.

Without warning he spun her around and threw her to the floor. Not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough for her to feel the impact. He hovered above her, pinning her down with his weight. “You let your guard down”, he chided her.

She tried to push against him and free herself, but he was too strong. And she realized this was what he’s been trying to teach her. Fighting a supernatural being is much harder than fighting a human. The deputy had been supernatural as well, but he hadn’t possessed the enhanced strength and reflexes of werewolves or other creatures…

_Creatures…_

A new tactic formed in her head as she reminded herself she was supernatural as well. She tried to fight him like a human and like a werewolf would do, but she was neither, she was something else and not as helpless as Derek thought her to be. She opened her mouth and screamed from the tops of her lungs right into his face.

_The scream of a Banshee._

The action surprised Derek the way she hoped. His face twisted in pain and he let go of his hold on her to cover his ears from the piercing sound as he squirmed in agony, which gave her the opportunity to flip them over and straddle his waist. With a smug expression she looked down at the werewolf who was slowly regaining his senses.

“Who let his guard down now?!” she smirked. “And I didn’t even need my heels to…”

Her triumph didn’t last long. Derek’s hands shot up too fast for her to do anything about it and grabbed her hips to pull her down. She fell forward, colliding with his chest, instinctively bracing a hand against the floor beside his face. More loose curls from her bun bounced around her head. Their faces were only inches apart. So close that Lydia was mesmerized by Derek’s clear green eyes. So close that he could easily rip her throat out with his teeth and kill her … which was probably the point he was trying to make.

“Fight is never over until it’s over,” he reminded her.

She barely registered his words. Too occupied by their current position on the floor with her practically lying on top of him and feeling all those hard muscles pressing against her in places she hasn’t been prepared for. She gulped, her breath catching in her throat and her heart starting to pound hard against her ribcage not just from effort of their training.

It would have been wise to move, but her body wouldn’t follow her command. How was she even supposed to function and think clearly with a man like Derek laying beneath her? The next words just tumbled out of her mouth without her approval. “Are you still seeing Braeden?” Her voice was soft, barely a whisper against the silent loft.

Uncertainty flashed across Derek’s face as he searched her eyes before replying, his voice low and husky. “No.”

Lydia let out a breath she hasn’t even realized she’s been holding while waiting for his answer. Instinctively she wetted her lips. “Good.”

Her gaze was drawn to his lips as she leaned down to claim his mouth with her own. It was a spur of the moment decision. An experiment she half expected it to fail. Derek froze, not reciprocating at first, his mouth a hard line though his lips were soft.

Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to give into this sudden craving. She titled her head back a little to study his reaction, awaiting his rejection. Derek didn’t move and just stared at her, his eyes heavy-lidded as he gazed up at her, his lips slightly parted. She bit her bottom lip, wondering if she should offer a believable excuse for her behavior. Dehydration maybe?

Bevor she could speak Derek craned his neck and crashed his lips to hers for a more passionate kiss that set her nerves on fire. His tongue delved into her mouth as he managed to sit up with her remaining in his lap. He clutched her to his chest, his strong arms engulfing her as if he didn’t want to let go of her again. Her fingers laced through his soft hair and scraped down over his back right above his triskele tattoo.

Their mouths latched onto each other greedily, until they had to break apart for air. None of them moved from their entangled position on the floor as they took heavy breaths. Lydia leaned back a little to look at Derek’s face flushed by the fever that made her own cheeks burn and crave for more than just kisses. His nostrils flared as his enhanced werewolf senses must have tasted the growing desire in her scent. His heartbeat was a heavy drum vibrating against her chest and the evidence of his arousal was straining against the front of his sweats, pressing against her thighs.

Still, he asked, “Do you want to stop?”

Their eyes connected and she realized stopping was the least of all things she wanted to do. The blazing craving that has been building during their training and unleashed with that one kiss far too strong to stomp it out like that again.

“How about we take a shower? I hate being all sweaty if it’s not due to sex”, she all but purred, brushing her thumb over Derek’s bottom lip.

The werewolf managed to stand up without letting go of her. Her legs wrapped around his waist as he walked them towards the bathroom nearby. After setting her down on her feet he turned towards the shower stall to turn on the water to heat up. While they waited Derek started to massage her neck. She closed her eyes, getting lost in his soothing caresses and humming in pleasure.

“I’m sorry if I’ve been too rough with the training”, Derek apologized and loosened her bun to let the long curls spill down her back.

“You weren’t”, Lydia replied, sighing as Derek’s nose brushed along her neck to breathe her in. Reluctantly she opened her eyes again and turned to face him. “Want to help take this off?” she asked while motioning towards her sweaty top. Derek hesitated so she removed it herself. His eyes roamed over her exposed flesh and he licked his lips with dark hunger sparking in his eyes as his fingers started to toy with one strap of her sports bra. She almost wished she was wearing something fancy, but Derek didn’t seem to mind the plain white fabric.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked once more for assurance.

“Why do you ask? Are _you_ having second thoughts?” She snuggled closer, her hands sneaking around his waist with her fingers playing with the waistband of his pants. She titled her head back to look up at him through her long lashes while she waited for his answer.

“Just want to be sure about your expectations.” His hands moved over her shoulders down her back, reaching for the clasp of her bra but not daring to open it. His touch made her shiver in anticipation.

She was an adult – young, but wise beyond her years with tons of experiences with the male gender. She knew what she was getting into and despite Derek’s hesitation she was aware how quickly he’s fallen into bed with his ex-lovers and that he was just as eager to give into temptation as herself. He just needed the right push.

“Maybe I don’t have any. Maybe it’s just curiosity. To know what it’s like. Like scratching an itch. Can’t say I have never thought about it.”

She pulled out of his embrace and turned around to remove the rest of her clothes before she stepped into the shower stall. She tested the water’s temperature with her toe bevor moving under the steaming spray to let the hot water pour over her body and ease the strain in her muscles. She could feel Derek watching her, his gaze burning into her back, but she’s never been a child of modesty and couldn’t deny the thought of his eyes roaming over her naked flesh turned her on.

After a few moments the werewolf joined her in the small shower stall. One large hand splayed hot against her lower back as the other reached around her for the soap on the sink and Lydia couldn’t help shivering in response of his simplest touch.

Gently Derek started to lather her body. Lydia closed her eyes, enjoying the sensual sensation his hands created moving over her slippery skin. Tracing her curves from her shoulders down to her calves. She wondered if it was one of his natural talents she hasn’t known about before or if he’s done this so many times for his past lovers to be that good at it. A sting of jealousy mixed with hot-boiling anger struck her gut just thinking about what Kate Argent and Miss Blake had done to him and how little they’d deserved his affection. Braeden was a different story. Not as crazy or evil as the other two, but it was no secret Lydia never liked the mercenary and believed Derek deserved better. Someone more trustworthy and caring. Someone protective of his wounded heart who understood his pain, but strong willed to set his head straight when he was acting like a moron. Someone more … like her.

Her body tensed which Derek noticed. “Everything’s okay?” he asked in concern. His hands stopped immediately what they have been doing. “Did I do something wrong?”

She shook her head but kept her mouth shut, not trusting her voice as she stepped under the spray to rinse off the soap, her mind too unsettled by her own train of thoughts.

_Someone like her..._

She turned back to face Derek and her breath caught in her throat at the sight of the werewolf in all his naked glory. All that tanned skin and well-defined muscles she’s always admired from afar and that her fingers itched to touch and explore now. Her heartbeat increased at the sight of his impressive arousal with her mind picturing all the sinful things she wanted to do with him, leaving the question whether it was more than just physical attraction to fathom later.

His eyes darkened as his gaze followed a drop of water flow down the passage between her breasts. His hands were clenched into fists in order to keep the last bit of restrain he seemed to have left. A low growl rumbled in his chest as Lydia moved closer. Tracing the lines and ridges of his abs, she relished in the feel of his muscles trembling beneath her touch, before she moved her hands upwards with her nails scraping through his soft chest hair to curl around his neck. She stood on tiptoes to reach his mouth for a luscious kiss. His strong arms wrapped around her as he scooped her up and pressed her back against the wall of the shower stall. The cold tiles a harsh contrast to Derek’s warm body, pressing into her in all the right places.

His fingertips caressed down her neck, tracing the prominent curve of her collarbone to cup her breast that fitted perfectly into his large palm. Her head fell back against the wall and she moaned in pleasure as his thumb brushed over the sensitive peak and he started to squeeze und knead. Fire coiled inside her and moisture pooled between her legs which made her grind against Derek to create some friction. His stubbles left a delicate burn on her skin as he trailed his lips along her neck and sucked on her fluttering pulse.

His fingers continued their journey down her stomach at a torturous slow pace, his fiery touch making her whimper in anticipation, before dipping between their bodies in search of her center. She gasped and bit her lip as his thumb brushed over the sensitive bundle of nerves in circling motions, making her toes curl and her fingernails dug into his shoulders. A cry of blissful rapture escaped her lips when he added his fingers to the stimulation, penetrating her at a teasingly slow rate, her body clenching and quivering as she arched into his touch.

She felt Derek’s length throbbing against her thigh and swayed her hips to grind against him. Derek sucked in a sharp breath with his eyes fluttering shut for a moment. When they opened again they flashed striking blue before returning to their normal color. He groaned against her ear, a stream of soft swears falling from his lips, and Lydia shivered as his fingers kept curling and twisting inside her.

She couldn’t wait any longer. She wanted to touch him, taste him, but most of all she wanted to feel him. All of him. As if reading her mind – or maybe just his wolf senses reacting to her chemo signals - Derek removed his fingers from her slick flesh. Without letting go of her, he reached for the top drawer of the locker beside the shower stall, rummaging through it until he found a package of condoms. He ripped one open with his sharp teeth and it was the most sensual thing she’s ever seen, sending a jolt of arousal straight to her core.

She took the condom from his grasp. “Let me.”

Derek nodded and leaned far enough away for her to reach for his hardness. She stroke him a few times, reveling in the feel of his silky steel in her hand, before enrolling the condom over it. The werewolf hissed against her ear, almost growling. His eyes were cast down. Drops of sweat glistened on his forehead while he watched her working his length.

Positioning him against her entrance she captured his mouth with her lips and sucked on his bottom lip as he started to push in, slowly, to let her get used to his size. She moaned against his lips at the overwhelming sensation of her body welcoming him, a delicate wisp of pain mixed within the swelling pleasure to be stretched and filled like that. Derek set a steady but slow pace, clearing holding himself back for her convenience, until she encouraged him to move faster by biting hard into his lower lip and tightening her legs around his waist.

He chuckled huskily and increased his speed, thrusting into her much harder now. Their chests heaving against each other, panting. Lydia’s back was pressed hard against the tiles, but she barely noticed.

It felt so good, so right to be merged like this on the most intimate level.

She was close and so seemed Derek.

Shifting his hips he adjusted his angle in search of the spot that would make her see stars and cry out his name, and he made sure to hit it with every new thrust. She braced her hands on his shoulders, her fingernails clawing at his skin and leaving read marks as she rocked her hips to meet his thrusts. Her body tightened and shook with the violent rush of her orgasm ripping through her, consuming her. Derek kept thrusting, until he reached his own release and she held on to him until the last ripples of bliss have receded.

Derek moved them back under the jet of the shower to cleanse their skin from the fresh sweat. The water turned cold by now and Lydia shivered when it hit her back. Exhausted she rested her head on his broad shoulder and snuggled against his chest, but kept her eyes open as she didn’t want to risk falling asleep in his arms no matter how much she was tempted to skip school and stay right where she was.

After drying off and getting dressed in mutual silence Lydia went into to living area of the loft to retrieve her bag. Derek trailed behind her shirtless and barefoot with his hands shoved into the pockets of his pants. His damp hair was plastered to his forehead, his expression relaxed as he watched her.

She took out her cell phone and checked the display. The clock let her know that she would have to hurry if she wanted to get to school in time for her first class, and she missed a frantic text message from Scott asking about her scream which of course he’s heard across town with his alpha ears.

She turned towards the werewolf with a coy smile. She felt the need to say something, though she wasn’t really sure what to say after what just happened. “So … same time tomorrow?” She didn’t realize her words were filled with such innuendo until she saw Derek arch his eyebrow at her. “I mean I obviously need more training and you know … for the good of the pack.”

“You realize this was not just about the pack, do you?” he replied, locking eyes with her. His voice turned soft. “I really want to make sure you can look after yourself. I want to be sure you’re safe … when I’m not around.” The protectiveness in his voice and the open look on his face made her heart melt. His cheeks reddened in such endearing way that she just wanted to jump into his arms and kiss him one last time. She never would have thought she would see the day when she made Derek Hale blush like a teenage boy.

He looked like he wanted to add something, but then decided otherwise and pressed his lips together. Lydia nodded and turned to leave, her mind was still reeling from the training, the sex and all the different emotions mixed into it. She was almost through the door when Derek decided to speak again, making her stop in her tracks. “Don’t forget to bring your heels.”

She didn’t turn around again to look at him, but she couldn’t help the smile tugging at her lips when she stepped out of the loft. Maybe it was stupid to consider starting something with Derek if he could be gone again in a week, but she barely cared as she thought back about what they’ve just done and all the things that were still left to do.

She couldn’t wait for tomorrow.

 


End file.
